


Sing Me a Song of the Brave and True

by celeste9



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Arguing, Gen, Missing Scene, Self-Sacrifice, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 13:24:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2152356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Have you so little faith in me, sister?"/ "No, but I have too much faith that what you seek is a glorious death." (missing scene for A Feast for Crows)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sing Me a Song of the Brave and True

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through A Feast for Crows. For 'sacrifice' on my H/C bingo card.

Loras watched Cersei disappear through the door behind the Iron Throne, followed by several members of her council, and then turned to Margaery. “Allow me to escort you back to your chambers,” he said, and didn’t wait for her reply. Sweeping off across the floor and through the wide doors, Loras heard the quick patter of Margaery’s feet behind him.

“Loras!” she said. “Loras, talk to me.”

“What would you wish me to say?” he said, stopping in the hall so abruptly that Margaery nearly fell into him.

“I would have you tell me what in seven hells you think you’re doing,” she hissed at him, her cheeks flushed.

Ser Harys Swyft paused near to them, staring, but Margaery’s angry glare melted into a disarming smile as she faced him. “I do hope you can manage to get some rest after this interruption, ser,” she said.

Swyft mumbled an apology, hurrying by.

The hall was empty. Loras said, “I am doing my duty.”

All trace of Margaery’s smile had vanished. “Your duty?” she spat. “Since when is your duty asking for Cersei Lannister’s permission to get yourself killed?”

“Would you rather I let the ironborn destroy our lands and rape and murder our people?”

“Of course not. I would rather you leave Dragonstone to Lord Redwyne and find some other way to stop the ironborn. I would rather you were not so intent on sacrificing yourself as if it were the only option.”

“Cersei doesn’t care about the Shields. She is a Lannister. She doesn’t care about us.”

“No, she doesn’t. She cares nothing for you-- it would please her to see you dead.”

“You shouldn’t say such things.” Even if they were true.

“Because someone might hear? Do you think I don’t know she’s spying on me? I am not a fool.”

Loras knew that to be true, perhaps better than anyone. “Then stop fighting me over this. You won’t change my mind.”

Margaery took a step closer to him, looking as though she was considering reaching out, but she kept her hands to herself. Her face took on an imploring expression. “Please, Loras, don’t do this. You’ve only asked for the command so that you may storm Dragonstone yourself. They’ll kill you!”

“Have you so little faith in me, sister?”

“No. But I have too much faith that what you seek is a glorious death.”

Loras looked at the wall behind his sister’s head, his thoughts on times long past. “Do you know why I became a knight? It was for exactly this sort of situation, for the opportunity to do something worthy of remembering, to prove myself.” He had dreamed that songs would be sung about him; he had dreamed of being like Ser Arthur Dayne and Aemon the Dragonknight. No one sang songs of men who had won nothing but tourneys. No one would remember the knight who had seen two kings die. No one would remember the knight who was with Renly’s shade, too small even to wear Renly’s armor.

Unimpressed, Margaery said, “Well, I think you’re being a coward. Life has become too difficult and you would rather give up. This isn’t a song or a story. Life is ugly and hard and painful, and death seems a release. But death is just death-- It’s an ending. You think you’re being brave but if you really were, you would want to live.”

“You mean I would want to stay in King’s Landing. And for what? For Cersei Lannister to cut me down at every possible opportunity? I should be leading the Kingsguard in Jaime’s absence, you know I should be. Instead Cersei finds me inadequate even to train Tommen. I have nothing to stay here for.”

“You have _me._ ”

Startled, Loras looked more closely at his sister. Her tousled hair hung about her face and her brown eyes were bright. “I didn’t mean--”

“No, I know you didn’t. You never even thought of me, I know you didn’t. You never think when the prospect of battle is upon you.”

“I was thinking of Highgarden, of our family, of Willas and Garlan. I was thinking of the people who trust us to protect them.”

“Were you? Or were you thinking of yourself?” Margaery’s tone was sharp.

Choosing to ignore the bait, Loras said, “Margaery, I am not abandoning you. You aren’t alone here.”

Laughing bitterly, Maragery said, “That is true, at least. I am never alone.”

Sometimes Loras wished that he and Renly had run away together, leaving King’s Landing and all its treacherous politics behind them, leaving the crown to whatever fool would have it. He wished that Margaery could have married some simple boy that she loved instead of being passed from king to king like a prize, or like a bartering piece.

He thought they all would have been happier for it.

But this was where they were. In King’s Landing, playing the game. “I have to do this. Don’t you see?” The Shield Islands would be a ruin before they had any ships to send. Loras had to do this, he had to. No one else would.

His sister’s smile was weak and sad. “I see better than you do, I think.”

“What does that mean?”

Now Margaery did touch him, laying her small hand upon his arm. “I know that you loved him. I know how much it hurts. But he will be waiting for you forever and I... I need you here, Loras. You mustn’t leave me here on my own. Please.”

“Margaery, I--”

“No, I know there is no talking you out of this. I know you think you must go. Just promise me... Promise me you will come back.”

Loras knew he could promise no such thing, and in her heart, Margaery knew as well. Loras had faith in his own abilities, pride and a justified confidence.

Sometimes, though, that didn’t matter. The best man did not always win. All it took was a chance blow or a momentary slip.

Truth be told, Loras didn’t know what he wanted. Margaery was right. He was tired. He was tired of Lannisters and he was tired of games. He missed Renly.

It would be easy to die in battle. It was the sort of death he had always wanted. He wasn’t certain it was what he wanted just yet, however. They sang songs for the glorious dead, it was true. They sang songs for the heroes fallen in bloody combat, but the songs would be as sweet if he won Dragonstone and lived to seek even greater victories. His page in the White Book was not yet even close to being full.

He looked at Margaery and thought of her smile, the warmth of her embrace. He did not wish to give her cause to mourn him. She had enough to pain her as it was.

“I will come back to you, sister,” he said, and took her hands in his. The promise was easy to make, even if he could not keep it. “After all, I cannot leave all the glory of saving the Shield Islands to Garlan.”

When Margaery laughed, the sound was as sweet as any song.

**_End_ **


End file.
